Untitled
by mayze
Summary: Gwendal, Annissina and knitting. There isn't enough GwendalAnnissina fic around. sigh Comments amd constructive criticism very much welcome. bows Thank you


There was, Gwendal decided, something romantically tragic about getting drunk on champagne in a room full of diplomatic strangers. Well, that wasn't entirely true; His mother and uncle were there, but Cecelie was busy basking in the attention of (almost) every male in the grand room and his uncle was trying to keep his sister's behavior in check. The servants were doing their job well, Gwendal noted absently. They kept refilling his champagne flute before he could get to the bottom, which made it really difficult to keep count. Not that he was counting, of course, but it would be good to know how many calories he would have to work off in the morning. A soldier had to keep himself in top condition.

He was bored. Completely, totally bored. He hated social gatherings, but as the Maou's eldest son, he had no choice but to make an appearance, and especially now that he was no longer a child and of legal drinking age, he was expected to stay on for the entire course of the evening. He thought a tad enviously of Conrad Wolfram had insisted on Conrad giving him his bath and going to sleep with him, and no one ever refused little Wolfram's demands, so Conrad had been allowed to leave in good graces.

Someone approached him. Gwendal couldn't tell if it was male or female, and it was not just because of his inebriated state. It was… an it. Gwendal glowered. He didn't want to be there, but he was fulfilling his duty as eldest son, and he'd be damned if he was tricked into dancing, especially with that _thing_. Wait, no one was tricking him, but…

Gwendal slammed his glass on the table and stalked off. He didn't want to be harassed by some pervert. Enough was enough. He'd go tell his mother he wasn't feeling well, and get permission to retire to his room. He squinted. Where was she? It was impossible to miss a presence like her's, even if the room was so crowded he could hardly breathe, but all he could see was red. Red everywhere… Red shoes red gown red gloves red hair blue eyes… Blue?

"There you are Gwendal!" Annissina cried out. "I've been looking for you the whole evening! Where have you been? You look grumpier then usual, have you been drinking? Don't just stare, answer me! Hello? Gwendal?"

Piercing, Gwendal thought dumbly. Her voice pierced that heady fog in his mind and he… He still couldn't think. What was he about to do before he got accosted by Annissina? She was saying something to him, but the fog had gotten thicker, even her voice couldn't penetrate. She was holding his arm, dragging him off… Away? She was taking him away from this infernal place? All right he'd follow. Anywhere would be better than this roomful of strangers.

"… I'm telling you you've drunk too much, you need to clear your mind and cleanse your soul. I've got just the thing for you, right after you wash your face with cold water of course, you stink of drunkenness. Now this is gonna be a huuuuuuuge step towards achieving equality between men and women. What a coup for me! Ahahahahahah! Come along Gwendal we have no time to waste!"

This was… Annissina's room? She'd brought him to her room? It was surprisingly normal. He'd never been there, decorum forbade it, but he'd always thought it would be full of strange gadgets, spare parts and useless tortu- he meant inventions. Useless inventions. What was she brandishing now? Thin, long straight… A knitting needle?

Annissina sat him on her carpeted floor.

"See? You use two needles at a time. Twist the wool around like this yes that's right and then bring it around like this yes that's good and then pull out more of the wool, push it along the needle. Why, you're good at this, despite being drunk. Now clear your mind, just breathe slowly, in, out, in, out. Think of nothing else but what is in your hands. Ah, you're calming down. Three less wrinkles on your forehead. Now just knit whatever you want, get used to the movements. I'll teach you more when you've grasped the basics, okay? Just ask." Annissina gave him a strange smile he'd never seen before. He'd call it tender, except he knew she was never tender in her treatment of him. Still, when he looked at the pile of wool and the knitting needles she had just given him, he couldn't help but feel a soft emotion he couldn't put a name to.

"Clear my mind and cleanse my soul…?" he murmured. Annissina nodded enthusiastically.

"… Thank you."


End file.
